Tantrum
by footshooter
Summary: Tony has a tantrum in the lab, Clint is dispatched to make sure Bruce doesn't Hulk-out. Bruce surprises him. T for swearing. Crack again coz I can only do one angst in like five stories!


Bruce Banner was attempting to put together something very complicated, with a huge amount of variables and definite requirements for a steady hand. Which would be great, if he could concentrate.

"And then she said I was totally incapable of looking after myself and that I'd basically starve and die in a pit of my own filth if she wasn't here to look after me."

Tony Stark was sat on a bench with his back to Bruce, incapable of actually getting anywhere near him because he was surrounded by metal and sciencey things. Tony was fairly sure Bruce was doing that thing he'd promised to do with the Cap's shield a couple of weeks back. But then he was also fairly sure he'd _done_ that himself, so he wasn't sure why. Unless he just dreamt he'd done it. Which was entirely possible.

"Then she stamped out, like all tottery on her little high heels that I'm fairly sure _I _paid for. What would I do without her? Pfft. What would _she_ do without _me_ more like? I mean, can you believe that?"

Tony heard Banner sigh and put down the metal he was tinkering with. He heard the glasses come off and get rubbed against his shirt, like he always did when he was trying to remain calm. Tony almost smirked, but Banner was probably close enough to a Hulk-out, and so he refrained. Bruce took a deep, calming breath and put his glasses back on.

"Erm, yes, actually Tony. I kinda can."

Tony was horrified.

* * *

Clint Barton could hear Tony shouting down in the lab. Unfortunately, Banner was also down there and the poor man was very susceptible to other people's emotions. Whenever they argued, he had to leave because he was going to Hulk-out. Either that, or he'd tell them and they'd all calm down. Tony didn't seem to be at all concerned by this, of course, and so was having a billionaire temper tantrum in Banner's vicinity.

He sighed and put down the book he was trying to read.

"It is your turn," Steve said, shrugging. And so Clint made his way downstairs.

Through the door, he could see Tony waving his arms around and all but stamping his feet in a very good impression of a child in a tizzy. He bit back a laugh. Banner was sat in front of him, one eyebrow raised, totally unconcerned. Clint thought this was strange, because normally, if they were in a boardroom, he would be getting all clenchy.

* * *

Bruce yawned as Barton pressed in the code and entered the lab. He looked beyond Tony and waved. This annoyed Tony even more.

"You know what? I'll show _you_. I'll show you _and_ Pepper! I'll show all of you fuckers!"

Barton rolled his eyes, "Stark, what the hell is wrong with you?"  
Tony whipped around, his eyes narrowing, "What the hell are you doing in _my_ lab, Barton. You'll break something. Get out."  
"I'm nowhere near anything," Clint said, confused.

"I tell you what, Tony. I'll take back what I said."  
"Good."  
"There's an if here, by the way."

Tony turned to face him, the glare directed at Banner instead of Barton. Barton looked completely baffled at how calm Bruce actually was. Even _Pepper_ started shouting back when Tony was in this sort of state. And she knew how to deal with him better than any of them. But here was Bruce, totally not green and still skinny, just nonchalantly chatting away like he had no issues with anger management whatsoever. It was hurting Clint's head.

"What?" Tony asked, folding his arms and tapping his foot.

"_If_ you cook us dinner."  
"You want _me_ to cook _you_ dinner."

Banner shrugged, "It'd be a good way of proving yourself to me. And Pepper. And I _bet_ she'd be really grateful for the night off. Like, _really_grateful."

Bruce even had the audacity to raise his eyebrows and nod. Tony's eyes brightened.

"Really?"  
"Yeah."

"Like, no shouting and sex grateful?"  
"Maybe."

"Wow." Tony considered it for a second. "Okay, Banner, you're on."

Bruce shrugged again, and then looked over at Clint, realising his disguse had slipped.

"Hey Clint, can I borrow your steady hand for a second?"

"That sounded better in your head, Banner." Tony said as he stalked out of the room. "If you're staying, Barton, don't _break_anything."

Tony walked out of the lab.

* * *

Banner glanced at Barton, and then turned back to the shield.

"What do you want me to do?"  
"Oh," Bruce muttered, almost forgetting his cover. "Can you just put your hand here?"

Barton picked his way through the mess and placed his hand on the metal where Bruce asked.

"You're not gonna weld my hand or anything, are you?"  
Banner laughed, "No. of course not."

Clint watched Bruce in silence for a couple of minutes.

"You're a clever bastard, you know that Banner?"

Clint didn't mean the shield, or the science. Bruce smirked.

"Yeah."

Clint was awestruck at how easily Bruce had manipulated the great manipulator into making them dinner. He just hoped to God it wouldn't backfire and be a disaster. Somehow, he thought it wouldn't be. Tony latched on to things, after all. And he'd switched his mood, just like that. He was impressed. Very impressed.

"Hey, Banner?"  
"Hmm?" Bruce said, not looking up from the small laser beam he was passing over the metal, repairing dents and tears from the stripped away paintwork while Clint held it steady.

"Were you ever at risk of Hulking-out in meetings?"

Bruce laughed, "Erm, no. But how about we keep that to ourselves, huh? I mean, no one _really _wants to sit for three hours listening to Tony and Steve bickering over who's the best superhero. Right?"

"Right."

Clint shook his head, smiling to himself. Who the hell would've thought Bruce Banner had it in him.

"Banner, you quite honestly never fail to surprise me."

Bruce smiled that little lopsided grin of his.


End file.
